Augenblick mal! 2003
Sonntag, 4. Mai 2003 | Arena Treptow
Schauspiel Staatstheater Stuttgart / Theaterhaus Stuttgart
I Furiosi - Die Wütenden
Eine Untersuchung über den möglichen Zusammenhang von Fußball und Gewalt
Fassung von Sebastian Nübling und Daniel Wahl
nach dem Roman von Nanni Balestrini
Edition ID-Archiv, Berlin
In Zusammenarbeit mit Haus Kienberg e.V.
ab 14 Jahren | 110 Minuten
Director: Sebastian Nübling
Stage Design: Muriel Gerstner
Costume Design: Muriel Gerstner
Dramaturgy: Carl Häser
Music: Lars Wittershagen
Actor(s): Zvonimir Anković (Zigolo), Stefan Feddersen-Clausen (Germano), Yavuz Köroglu (Picchio), Marcus Michalski (Picchio), Sebastian Röhrle (Martino), Dino Scandariato (Falco), Martin Thamm (Occhione), Daniel Wahl (Nibbio), 45-köpfiger 'Fan-Chor'
The Ultras from the AC Milan fan club are proud of their 'heroic' odyssey through Europe's cities and stadiums. For them, the most important part of the game takes place after regular playing time, and not on the football field. This piece is about the
Taking the prose text 'I Furiosi – The Furious' the director moulded a theatre piece for eight professional and forty amateur actors. Based on monologues, he constructs group and mass scenes around the phenomenon of football, fans and violence. But the sport football is really only an excuse here – to follow the personal lives of a group of fans, members of a sworn in club in Italy, but, in essence, they could be at home almost anywhere. Each of the protagonists tells his story, in breathless, unreflected and, thereby, truly authentic subjectivity. There's the former political activist who's lost all relation to meaning and now uses the fan club to vent his frustration about the conditions in society. Or there's the bloke who was always overlooked and now finds belonging and direction in the focused animosity of the group – and overcompensates with his newly found strength.
The almost racetrack-speed monologues are formally supported, absorbed and amplified through the strong male-physical choreography and interchange between the figures in the group. The classic role of the chorus is transported into present-day rituals and unchained body language. The content thereby fuses with the form of presentation: no one plays alone, even if just talking about himself. No one breaks out, for the Furiosi are spastically imprisoned in their St. Vitus' dance. Violence, football, the power of the masses – the archetypal patterns of groups are vividly displayed. And just when it seems the rhythm of the eight protagonists' dance is becoming exhausted, the production takes off: the forty amateur actors storm the stage to form a sweeping circle of fans, a mock football stadium, a playground with its own rules and laws.
The audience is drawn into the frenzy, becomes a part of the movement of the multitude and euphoric energy gone berserk. Any reflection or attempt to lean back in your seat immediately 'disqualifies' you. That's the way it is, in the world of the Furiosi. By belonging to a group all other fan clubs are automatically your enemies. To them, the fight against the opponent is a sport and an adventure. This piece is not about psychology, nor subtle associations or intellectual relativising. This is a spectacle, which explains itself – despite or perhaps even because of its highly rhythmic group choreography. At the end of the final battle, a policewoman comments unfiltered and ambivalently, "You're such arseholes. But you really gave them a good whacking." To inject morals or some kind of message into this piece would destroy its wild beauty. Which is: to show things the way they are.